hwang hyunjin''

Sitting at his workstation since the early morning (nine o'clock), Hyunjin stared boredly at the empty, tiny shop (where he happened to be the cashier). With a suffering sigh, he settled more comfortably into his chair, leaning his head back against the wall and drifting off to sleep. Thieves, homeless people—he didn't care who robbed this little shop; it wasn't him who had to answer for it anyway. Maybe it was arrogant and selfish, but again, he didn't care at all. Hyunjin was simply a cashier in this little kiosk. Self-checkout machines had already been invented, so Hwang could peacefully sleep through all his shifts—because, to be honest, that was the one thing he was best at.

——

On an early, foggy Monday morning, Hyunjin was once again at his "post." With a magazine over his face to block out the bright store lights and his feet up on the counter, he snored, dreaming his 24th dream of the day.

— Give me some cigarettes.

The voice sounded somewhere beneath the surface of his consciousness, but Hwang didn't even flinch. He didn't flinch until someone tapped him on the leg.
Hyunjin jolted awake, barely managing to grab onto the table to avoid falling onto the counter with a deafening crash.

— Hey, brat! — Hyunjin shouted, rubbing his sleepy eyes. Looking up, he saw a handsome guy with white hair. — Didn't they teach you not to disturb someone's sleep?!

— And didn't they teach you not to sleep on the job? Give me some cigarettes.

— Cigarettes? — Hyunjin asked back with a smirk, tilting his head to the side. — Are you even eighteen, brat?

— I'm nineteen, actually! Can't you tell by looking at me?! — Felix protested, to which Hyunjin held out his palm, rolling his eyes.

— ID, please. — When the younger one reluctantly handed over his passport, Hyunjin, with a biting smirk, looked not at the age, but at the photo of fourteen-year-old Felix. — Wow, you were such a cutie. I might just fall in love right now! — Hyunjin laughed, seeing the indignant look on Felix's face.